


Trust

by clgfanfic



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:39:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trust is everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Devil's Hole #3 under the pen name Duval.

Hannibal Heyes cradled the cup of coffee and stared at the dark surface, trying to see the future.  The Kid would live, of that he was absolutely sure, but beyond that basic fact he was ambivalent.  His jaw ground, anger and fear pounding through his body like a surge of adrenaline.  He wanted to stand, hurl the cup across the room and rail against the wounded blond, but he couldn't.

Instead, he continued to focus on the surface of his coffee, remembering the events that had brought them here.  He knew it was tied to the last time he'd lain in a doctor's bed himself, exactly three weeks ago.  He'd been bruised and battered, a black and white marvel, with aching ribs, a mild concussion and an aching kidney.

He trembled slightly, remembering the fear and helplessness he'd felt when he became the victim of an assault by a ruthless bounty hunter.  He knew the Kid blamed himself for not reaching him soon enough.

Heyes smiled faintly, remembering how they'd made love when he was finally up and around again.  But even then he'd known the Kid was fighting a major dump of guilt.  It wasn't until the following Monday that the real problems had started.

Curry was playing mother hen with a vengeance.  Heyes knew it was going to happen; in fact, he'd expected it to happen, but he'd also expected it to wear off in a week or so.  It hadn't.  Exactly three weeks later and the Kid was still keeping him on a short leash and taking unnecessary chances, and this time it got him shot.

Maybe he should've confronted his partner about it that first Monday.  Maybe he should've pounded the blond into the dirt to make his point; God knew that that's what it sometimes took to get through to the man.  Maybe he should've taken the Kid up on the idea of a vacation in Santa Marta.  Maybe he should've just refused the job that had them acting as security agents for a ranch payroll.

It had been a simple plan – too simple.  There were more men after the payroll than the foreman expected.  More men and more guns…

Heyes looked up at the sound of a throat being softly cleared.  An older woman stood before him, brown and gray hair pulled back into a functional bun, a cross hanging around her neck.

He stood.  "How's Thaddeus?"

"He's doin' right well."  Her gaze swept over his dirty, disheveled clothes and she asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Heyes assured her.  "And his shoulder?" he asked, his voice stripped of hope, just in case.

"His shoulder should be fine," she said, handing him a fresh cup of coffee.  "My Daniel is a fine doctor.  He patched him up just dandy, you'll see."

"Thank you," he said, warming to the older woman.

She gave him a reassuring smile.  "He'll be fine."

"That's very good news," Heyes sighed, rubbing his eyes.  "When can I see him?"

"An hour or so, I'd guess.  He's sleepin' and needs his rest.  I'll let you know when he wakes."

"Thank you," he said again.

When he left, Heyes sipped at the fresh coffee and remembered how they'd ended up in the older man's office.

A gang stole the payroll, but he and the Kid tracked them down, finding them holed up in an old barn.  They entered the building at opposite ends, working their way toward the middle where the gang sat around a small fire.  Everything seemed perfect; they had the men in a crossfire, but they hadn't counted on the men's willingness to die to protect their ill-gotten gains.

All hell broke loose as soon as Heyes said his first word.  The men opened fire, and someone dove over the fire, scattering the embers.  Old, dry hay quickly caught and smoke filled the barn, flames quickly lapping up from the floor to the timbers as the fire caught.

They'd focused on the two ringleaders, who had the payroll saddlebags between them.  They each followed one of the pair, working them towards the other in a squeeze play.  And it looked like it was going to work.  They called for the two men to give up, and they had, their hands coming up.  Then one of the gang members appeared out of the smoke, Heyes and Curry both spotting the man at the same time.

The man raised his revolver and the Kid reacted first, sprinting towards Heyes, the bullet catching him in the shoulder and slamming him into the floor before the dark-haired man could do anything to stop it.  Heyes fired, winging the shooter.

The Kid, curled into a ball, then unfolded, rolled up and climbed to his feet, still clutching his Colt.  His free hand covered the bleeding wound.

"Are you crazy?!" Heyes exploded, then choked as he sucked in a lungful of the smoke.

Curry ignored the comment, moving in on the two men, kicking their dropped weapons away.

They found the payroll bags, Heyes swinging both over his shoulders.  Outside he tied the two ringleaders while the Kid grabbed the stuffed saddlebags and draped them over their horses.  They escorted the pair into town and turned them over to the local sheriff.  The payroll money was handed over to the local banker.

Curry managed three steps beyond the bank before the shock of the wound and the effects of the smoke buckled his knees.  Heyes held him on his feet, wrapping one arm around the man's waist and helped him onto his horse.  Luckily the ride to the doctor's house was short.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Heyes scooted down in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him.  He was tired, and dirty, and he smelled like smoke.  His eyes dropped closed, but he shook his head to stay awake.  After he saw the Kid he'd go get cleaned up, get some sleep.

He glanced at the clock sitting on a small table by the window.  He'd been there nearly four hours.

"Mr. Smith?" the old woman called from the doorway.

He glanced up at her, sitting up straight.

"He's awake."

"Thanks," he replied, nearly bolting from his chair.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Heyes stepped into the small room, his gaze sweeping over the Kid.  His color was good and he was breathing easy.  He sighed with relief, then stepped up to the narrow bed.

"Kid?  You awake?"

Curry blinked and opened his eyes.  "Yeah, 'm 'wake," he managed around a dry mouth.  "Water?"

Heyes saw the half-full glass sitting on the nightstand and picked it up.  "Here," he said, holding it to his partner's lips.  The blond took several swallows, then kissed the proffered fingertips before Heyes could pull them away.

"Ya taste smoky," the blond whispered.

Heyes grinned.  "That help?"

"Yeah," Curry said.  "A little more?"

Heyes held the glass up to Curry's lips again.  Then he reached out and stroked the blond's cheek with a knuckle.  "You're damned lucky, Kid."

"So the doc said."

"That was a stupid move today."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that one out all by myself," he admitted sheepishly.

"I know why you did it," Heyes continued.  "But–"

"I know what you're gonna say," Curry interrupted.  "I better not do it again or you'll shoot me yourself."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Heyes said, adding under his breath, "more or less."

The Kid grinned sleepily.  "Even when I was doin' it, I knew it was stupid, but I couldn't stop myself."  He met Heyes' gaze, the grin fading.  "All I could see was you, lyin' there on the ground."

"Get some rest, Kid," Heyes instructed, leaning over to kiss the man's forehead.  "We'll talk this out when you're feeling better."

Curry nodded, his eyes falling closed.

Heyes waited for a moment to make sure his partner was asleep, then turned and headed back to the parlor.  He picked up his saddlebags and headed for the hotel.  He was long overdue for a hot bath, a cold beer and what he knew was going to be a very empty bed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Several days later the Kid was well enough to leave the doctor's.

"How does it feel?" Heyes asked.

"Not bad," the Kid admitted.  "A little sore."

Back at the hotel, Heyes put the Kid's stuff away, then headed down to get him something to eat from the small restaurant.

When he returned, he found Curry stretched out on the bed, napping.  Heyes turned, planning to take the food back downstairs and eat it himself when he heard, "You gonna just stand there or are you gonna give me something to eat?"

Heyes handed over the plate and silverware, then watched while the Kid tore into his meal with vigor.  When he was done, Heyes took the plate and silverware back downstairs and returned with two cups of coffee.

"Guess we better have us a talk," Curry said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, I guess we'd better," Heyes said without looking at his partner.

"Heyes, I know what I did was just plain foolish."

The dark-haired man turned just far enough so he could meet Curry's gaze.  "No, what you did was just plain stupid."

The Kid shrugged.  "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You just said you knew it was stupid."

Curry fought back the desire to yell.  " _Foolish_ , but good," he amended.

"Kid, you can't keep trying to protect me or we're both gonna end up dead."  There, it was said.

"I know that," Curry snapped, his voice softening as he continued.  "Look, I'm just feelin' a little protective–"

" _Over_ protective, because of that beating," Heyes finished.  "I know that, but, Kid, it's gotta stop."

"I know that, too."

Heyes stood and leaned back against the wall, his coffee cup in his hand.  "Kid, I love you, you know that, don't you?"

The blond nodded.  He knew, but Heyes didn't say it often.

"But we're on the lam, and–"

"Don't you see," Curry replied softly.  "That's why I was playin' it safe."

"Why?  So you get yourself killed before I do?"

The Kid shrugged.  "Be easier that way," he admitted.

"Kid, I don't want to be without you any more than you want to be without me."

"You mean that?" Curry asked, the surprise clear on his face.

"I ever give you some reason for you to think I wouldn't?"

"No," the Kid admitted.  He shook his head.  "I guess seein' you get beat like that just spooked me."

"I can accept that," Heyes said, moving over to sit on the bed with his lover.

Curry sighed heavily.  "I just don't want to lose you, Heyes."

The ex-outlaw leader dipped his head.  "I know.  But we're just gonna have to take care of ourselves so we can take care of each other.  Deal?"

"Deal."

"Maybe we oughta take that trip to New Orleans we've been talking about," Heyes suggested.

The Kid nodded.  "I was thinkin' the same thing myself."

"You know, Kid, loving someone, you want to take care of them, protect them.  But seeing you hurt hurts me more than gettin' shot."

Curry leaned down and set his empty cup on the floor.  "Just you remember that I'm feelin' the same way, okay?"

"Yeah," Heyes said, "that's the real trick, isn't it?"

"Sure is," the Kid replied, edging closer to Heyes, then leaning over to lick his earlobe.  "You remember what you did to me the last time we were in Wickenberg?"

Heyes closed his eyes and smiled.  "I tied you to the bed and I made love to you 'til you begged me to stop," he chuckled.

"I want to do that," the Kid purred.  "I wanna make you beg."

Heyes dipped his head, catching the Kid's lips with his own.  The kiss was soft and gentle, but both men could feel the desperation below the surface.  They needed to hold each other.  They needed to love and be loved; to heal in more than physical ways.

"You wanna tie me up?" Heyes asked. 

Curry nodded, his eyes bright with longing.

"What if I don't beg you to stop?" Heyes asked.

"Oh, you'll beg all right," Curry promised.  "First you'll beg me _not_ to stop, then you'll beg me _to_ stop."

"You're pretty damned sure of yourself," Heyes said.

"Damned right I am," Curry replied.  "I know you, Heyes… inside and out."

"Prove it," the dark-haired man challenged.

And the Kid took him up on it…

The End


End file.
